My Immortal
by DeangirlSam1212
Summary: This is a song fic. Set after Episode 16 Season 3 Sam is having a difficult time getting over his brother's death. I just heard this song on the radio and I thought about how closely they actually relate to the end of season 3. Warning: spoilers for season 3


Okay, this is a song fic.

Song is My Immortal by Evanescence

This is after Dean was sent to Hell and this is Sam's POV.

My Immortal

I'm so tired of being here.

Suppressed by all my,

Childish fears.

And if you have to leave,

I wish that you would just leave.

Sam pushed through the motel door, but not bothering to close it. Just letting it swing back and forth as he crossed the room. He had just gotten back from the prepping of Dean before they burry him.

Dressing him in rosemary and thyme leaves to mask the scent of death, now drifting steadily from his body. Sam rubbed his face, attempting to wash the foul stench from his memory, but his hands were stained with it, only making the memories sharper.

Sam suppressed a, tremulous, breath, shaking his head in disbelief, and closing his eyes tightly.

'Cause you presence still lingers here,

And it won't leave me alone.

These wounds won't seem to heal.

This pain is just too real.

The sorrowful man glanced over to the bed nearest the door, the blanket still ruffled and thrown around in some bodies obvious attempt to get up one morning.

It was so normal, how can Dean not be here?

'How am I still standing?'

'Why am I still standing?' Sam mentally asked himself. Wanting it not true but knowing it was.

There's just too much that time cannot erase,

When you cried I wipe away all of your tears,

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,

And I held your hand through all of these years.

Sam collapsed onto his own bed, his hand slung over his eyes, blanking out all the light from his eyes in hope that, maybe, if he couldn't see it; it wouldn't be there.

But, unfortunately, Sam could still hear and knew that it was there anyway, so what would be the point of trying to pretend it's not.

His stomach felt empty, he hadn't really eaten for the last two days, it grumbled in desperation, but he was numb to the feeling, so he ignored it.

Instead of being filled, his stomach convulsed at sobs scored through his body. Choking him and draining him of the rest of his energy. He didn't want it anyway so he didn't really care.

Speaking through his tears he cried "Dean, Dean no, no, please." His lips pursed in the effort to make tears, gurgling sounds bubbling in the back of his throat.

But you still have,

all of me.

Sam stood rigid in the kitchen. The sight of Dean's duffel freezing him. His lips trembled and he began to whine, the sound quivery and disheartened. He slowly made his way over to the bag, reach out to touch the material, his hands shaking so violently he was barely able to grip the cloth. Falling to his knees, he leaned forward to bury his head into one of the last pieces of Dean he had. It smelled like him, and Sam never wanted to get up.

You used to captivate me,

By your resonating light.

How could Dean just leave him like that, with this life, hunting. Why did he save him if this life was not worth him living in. He never wanted hunting. He never wanted pain. He'd tried to free himself of it, but it clung to him like a drowning man. But now it was doing him a favor. He'd eventually die from the hunt. Struck down by the claw of the supernatural. If that didn't get him; the grief would kill him. Sorrow can be as lethal as the sharpest blade.

Now I'm bound by the life you left behind,

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dream.

Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me.

He had begun to cut himself. Loving how the pain burned like fire on his skin and the blood oozed and dripped from his wound. People around him see the cuts on his arms and give him odd looks but he doesn't really care, so he doesn't bother to worry. He only glares as they walk by, always ending with them, nervously, looking away. They think he's crazy, he knows that, and who is he to prove them wrong?

These wounds won't seem to heal,

This pain is just too real.

There's just too much that time cannot erase.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,

When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears,

I held your hand through all of these years.

But you still have… all of me.

He stared at the wood plank, that held his older brother's, lifeless, body. His paleness stood out, vividly, above the brightly colored surroundings. The sun held high in the sky, lighting up the bubbly blue sky and mint colored leaves of the pines, which terribly reminded Sam of Dean cheerful wonders, and the forest alive with creatures. It seemed so unnaturally beautiful; Sam's eyes teared up at the thought of life going on without his big brother's in it. The hole dug in the ground seemed to confirm that that's exactly what would happen.

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone.

But, though you're still with me.

I've been alone all along.

Dean's stiff corpse lay, unmoving, in the gap in the ground. Though Dean didn't stir, or say a word, he seemed to be teasing Sam beyond sorrow and grief. His tears mixed in with the black dirt as he shoveled it into the hole in the earth. Sobs suffocating, and his woes blinding. He had no idea how he even made it through the last few days without dropping dead from all the heartache he felt.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,

I held your hand through all of these years.

But you still have…all of me.

Sam nailed the screw into the wood. The ragged cross having been finally finished.

He stretched out his neck and kissed the splintery wood before pressing far into the ground, with his hammer.

He stood back and observed his work. Flattening the soil atop the grave.

It was perfect. Except for Dean being the person in it.

Sam fell to his knees, one last time, and wept in the loss of his brother.

All of me…

All of me…

All…


End file.
